Wanderer's Game
by jwhittacre
Summary: Comicverse. When Hellboy mysteriously vanishes, Liz and Abe are left with little idea what to do. The pair enlist the help of an old friend of Broom's, and end up facing problems of their own. Meanwhile, Hellboy must face his own challenge.


**Author's note:** This story is written very much in comicverse, and also draws some influence from the "Hellboy: Animated" movies, "Blood and Iron" and "Sword of Storms". This means that Abe Sapien is much close to the comic version, as Mignola originally created him, than to the adaptation for the movies created by Guillermo del Torro. For those not familiar with this version of Abe – he is not psychic, and tends to dress more simply (without that aqua-lung type respirator). His anatomical appearance is also a bit different than in the movies. Liz Sherman is seemingly younger here than in the live action movies or comics – I drew more inspiration from the animated films on her part. Her relationship with Hellboy is that of close friendship and professional respect. For all intents and purposes, this story fits in much better with the continuity of the Mignola comics/animated films than the other films. It's not necessary for you to have read the comics to understand (or, I hope, enjoy) this story, though some basic knowledge of Hellboy in general is preferable.

Dr. Roslin Hamilton and her family, as well as the briefly mentioned anthropology professor and student, are my own creations, as is the specific setting that this story takes place in. All other major characters mentioned belong to Mike Mignola, Dark Horse Comics, Tad Stones, et cetera.

* * *

Sheets of rain and ice fell from a brooding sky, lashed along by the storm. The grey expanse above was darkening already towards night, though it was only mid afternoon. The scene was mirrored by green-grey waters, worked into choppy waves by the cold wind.

The lake was lonely – on all sides the land sloped away and upwards, inhabited almost entirely by the dark forms of conifer trees growing closely. The only notable thing about the place at all was an island, bearing the same specter-like pines and a single, isolated house. A thin ribbon of smoke curled upwards from its chimney, dissipating quickly in the grim weather.

Abe Sapien stood on the slim stretch of beach, next to a shorter figure huddled in a standard bureau-issue raincoat. A black, mud-spattered jeep with government plates was parked further back, on what appeared to be a narrow, single-lane rut in the ground. Next to it was a worn-looking white truck, its paint job spotted with rust.

The figure in the raincoat, which proved to be female, turned toward Abe and spoke, voice raised slightly as the wind attempted to steal away the sound.

"That figures."

She gestured toward a short, empty dock that extended out over the water in front of them. There were rubber bumpers tied to the pilings, but no sign of any boat.

"I do appreciate you coming all this way with me, Liz, but you really don't need to accompany me to the island. I'll be fine on my own. Dr. Hamilton is an old friend." Unlike his companion, Abe didn't bother with a raincoat. The amphibious man was clad in the same wetsuit-like garb he almost always wore. The Bureau logo, a hand bearing a sword, was emblazoned on his chest.

Liz didn't have to reply for Abe to know she objected; the look on her face said enough. After a breath, she moved on with the subject.

"You think she's alone?" Liz was again looking out across the lake.

"I hope not," He, too, was looking at the house on the island, voice suddenly pensive. Usually upbeat, the distant tone of his voice was surprising. "It's nearly the Holidays, and she does have family." His voice faded into the wind, and the moment seemed to stretch.

After a few seconds, the silence was broken.

"Maybe you could come back with the boat. There's gotta be one over there," suggested Liz, shrugging. "I just don't like the idea of one of us going over there alone. Things usually…" she trailed off.

"…turn out more complicated than we'd like them to?" provided Abe helpfully, his usual demeanor having returned.

"Exactly." A dry chuckle was quickly drenched by the sleet.

Three months earlier, the trio had gone on what seemed like a routine mission. Well, as routine as things ever were with the BPRD. They'd been sent to British Columbia after receiving reports of native totems coming to life and terrorizing civilians in a small town. The problem had been dealt with relatively neatly – the culprit behind the ordeal was, of all things, a grad student with a degree in anthropology who'd become a little too interested in native lore. Reversing the situation had been easy enough - Elizabeth had made short work of the rampaging totems. They were, after all, carved from wood. Hellboy had referred to them as "kindling".

Things hadn't gotten bad until they were nearly ready to depart. Abe and Hellboy had gone to speak to the student's anthropology professor, who apologized profusely for letting the students handle certain powerful artifacts.

"You see, I never quite believed in…" he'd trailed off nervously, eyes playing from the hulking red creature to the man with the gills. He'd mumbled an apology, and Abe had conducted the rest of the meeting as diplomatically as he could. Business finished, they'd turned to leave. Hellboy, in his typical grace, knocked over a glass box holding several more miscellaneous artifacts.

There'd been a split-second flash of light, accompanied by a thunderous wind, and Hellboy disappeared. And _that _was the when the real dilemma began.

Abe and other agents had done their best to sort through the collection that Hellboy had knocked over seconds before vanishing. Most belonged to various tribes scattered across western Canada and the northwestern United States, a handful to other tribes, such as the Apache and Siminole. Two were, as of yet, unidentified.

It was for this reason that, three months later, and increasingly desperate Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense had tracked down Dr. Roslin Hamilton, a former consultant for the group and expert in native pacific legend. She was also been a close friend of Professor Bruttenholm's. The hope was that she might be able to identify the remaining artifacts and perhaps shed some light on Hellboy's mysterious disappearance.

Tracking down Hamilton had been its own challenge – the now retired academic had eventually been located in Washington State, living in a lake house two hours drive from the nearest town. The woman didn't own a phone, and came into the village once a month to pick up her mail at a P.O. box.

It was a long shot, but without much else to go on, the decision was made to send someone out to have a word with the doctor. Having met the woman a few times, Abe volunteered to pay her a visit. Liz expressed her interest as well, and off they'd gone, chasing after their first real hope since that day.

Now, having arrived, they were presented with another hurdle. No one had guessed Dr. Hamilton's home was actually _on_ the island rather than the lake shore. The degree of isolation she seemed to have pushed herself to surprised both of the agents, and concerned Abe especially. Roslin Hamilton had always presented herself as a well-educated, warm woman, and her pleasant demeanor had allowed her and Abe to get along well in the times they'd met. Abraham couldn't help wondering how the past few years had treated the doctor of anthropology.

Liz retreated to the Jeep, climbing in the driver's seat and shooting Abe an unhappy look.

"I still don't like this."

"You could always swim," Provided Abe, much to Liz's disgust.

"No thanks, Blue. Water's not exactly my thing." Her face became more serious. "Don't go getting into trouble, okay? We've already lost Hellboy-" she stopped abruptly, startling herself at the way she'd misspoken.

"Let's hope we haven't." Abe's voice was understanding, but it too carried heaviness. The last few months had been difficult for those closest to Hellboy, and Liz and Abraham were among his closest friends at the Bureau. Hellboy had been in seemingly impossible situations before, but it rarely took him so long to resurface, and it was rarer still that those left behind had so few leads.

Elizabeth offered an encouraging smile. "Hurry up with that boat," she said, closing the door of the jeep. Abe nodded and turned, walking back toward the water's edge. He paused for a moment, eyes fixed on the distant structure ahead, before wading into the icy water. Within seconds, he had disappeared completely from sight.


End file.
